


i hate to leave you (but I really must say goodnight)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, M/M, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, little spoon adam lowry agenda continues, this is just me being sad about jets losing and making myself feel better via snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 10:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18569248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: The first time isn’t really an accident.(Or, five times Adam and Brandon end up cuddling by accident, and the one time they do it on purpose)





	i hate to leave you (but I really must say goodnight)

**Author's Note:**

> hello i am sad about the jets. so i wrote some hugs to make myself feel better.
> 
> i didn't decide until #5 that this wasn't going to be "falling asleep together," so. it's sort of both things?
> 
> title from "goodnite, sweetheart, goodnite," by the spaniels

1.

 

The first time isn’t _really_ an accident, but Adam blames his exhaustion-impaired brain for lack of good judgement.

They’re on the plane, going home after a long road trip. Everyone’s exhausted, the plane dark and quiet. Adam thinks a couple guys might be playing cards at the back of the plane, judging by the soft murmur of voices and dim light coming from there. It all feels sort of dreamlike, almost.

Brandon’s sitting beside him, one of the thin plane blankets wrapped around his shoulders. He got the window seat, and he’s leaning awkwardly against the wall in a way that’s probably going to hurt his neck. Adam can’t tell if he’s asleep or not, but his forehead is creased in a frown, the dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced in the dark.

The plane hits a bit of turbulence, jostling Brandon most of the way awake.

“What,” he says, voice rough from sleep. He blinks at Adam, bleary-eyed.

“It’s nothing, go back to sleep,” Adam says. Brandon shakes his head and scrubs his hands over his eyes.

“Can’t,” he says, knocks his knuckles against the hard wall. “‘S uncomfortable.” Adam bites his lip.

Normally, he wouldn’t even ask, but right now Brandon just looks so pitiful, and Adam’s tired enough that it doesn’t seem like _that_ bad of an idea.

“You can, like. Use my shoulder.” Brandon blinks at him, slowly. “If you want,” he adds, just in case.

“Hmm,” Brandon says, but he shifts around in his seat and leans into Adam’s side. “Bony elbows,” he says after a moment. Brandon moves back, but only to take Adam’s arm and nudge him until he figures out what Brandon’s trying to get him to do. He raises his arm so Brandon can press back into his side. Adam stays tense, unsure what to do with his arm now.

Brandon pokes him in the ribs, gently.

“What?” Brandon turns his head to blink up at him, and like. Wow. His face is _really_ close, huh.

“You can put your arm back now, idiot,” Brandon says, then turns back. Adam lowers his arm, probably too carefully. Brandon’s hardly breakable, after all, but Adam doesn’t want to seem _too_ enthusiastic about snuggling with one of his bros.

He settles his arm around Brandon’s shoulders and finally relaxes. Brandon is warm against him, his breathing steady and slow like he’s already asleep. His hair tickles Adam’s neck, a little, and one of his hands is curled loosely in Adam’s hoodie.

Adam doesn’t remember falling asleep, just waking up with Brandon curled even closer against him, his own cheek resting on top of Brandon’s head.

Mark, sitting across the aisle from him, gives him a strange look, but Adam forgets about it as soon as Brandon starts to stir.

That’s the first time it happens.

 

2.

 

“You want to come for dinner tonight?” Brandon looks up from where he’s tying his skates.

“Sure,” he says. He leans back in his stall and looks up at Adam, raising an eyebrow. Adam shifts awkwardly. “Was there something else, or--”

“No!” Adam says, stepping back quickly. “No, uh, no. Just, you know. Come over after the game?”

“Yeah,” Brandon says slowly, still looking at Adam strangely. “You okay though? You’re being kind of weird.” Adam realizes that trying to invite Brandon over in a date-y way is probably not the thing to do in the locker room before a game with their entire team present.

“I’ve never been weird in my life,” Adam blurts as a final attempt to save face. A few of the guys close enough to hear that stare at him. Brandon opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but Adam hurries back to his stall before he can.

They win the game, which is fortunate not only in the sense that they want to win every game, but that it’s more fun hanging out with Brandon when they’re not still thinking over every mistake they made.

Adam swings by the liquor store to pick up a case of beer before heading home, Brandon stopping at his place to get changed out of his suit first.

Brandon’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie when he shows up, hair a little mussed from his hat, and, like. Adam _wants_ a lot.

Brandon smiles at him, a little lopsided. He looks sleepy, even though they had an afternoon game and it’s barely eight o’clock.

“You want to get started?” he asks, before stepping through the door. He doesn’t wait for Adam to move back and they end up standing way too close together. Brandon looks up at him, sort of expectantly, so Adam steps back quickly.

“Um, sorry,” he says, not waiting for Brandon to untie his shoes before going to the kitchen. He considers banging his head off the refrigerator to put himself out of his misery, but Brandon comes in before he can.

They start a movie after they eat, sitting on Adam’s couch. Adam couldn’t say what it is, aside from being some kind of action movie, because he’s too focused on noticing the way Brandon is sort of-almost leaning into him. He’s hyper aware of Brandon’s body heat, and he shivers a little.

“Are you cold?” Brandon asks. Adam looks at him, surprised. Brandon actually looks worried, which. He takes the chance and nods, trying to look as pathetic as possible. Brandon makes a soft noise and reaches out, tugging Adam in against him. He wraps an arm around Adam and rubs his back for a moment.

Adam tries not to fall off the couch.

He falls asleep with Brandon’s hand still moving in slow circles between his shoulder blades.

When he wakes up, the movie is over and the TV’s been turned off. He’s lying on his front, one of his legs hanging awkwardly off the side of the couch. Brandon’s asleep too, his arm still around Adam. More importantly, he’s lying almost on top of Adam, one of his legs hooked between Adam’s.

Adam can feel Brandon’s breaths ruffling his hair.

He’s not, like, super comfortable, and he’s pretty sure he’ll regret sleeping like this in the morning, but he has Brandon pressed up against him and he seems to be doing alright, so Adam moves just enough to get comfortable and goes back to sleep.

 

3.

 

Adam wakes up for a nightmare about quicksand to find that he can’t breathe through his nose. He groans pitifully, then coughs _hard._

“Owww,” he says when he’s done coughing, his throat and chest aching. He pulls his blankets up again, relieved that there’s no game today or tomorrow, and only optional skate today.

He’s lying in bed, feeling more pathetic by the minute, when his phone rings. He fumbles for it, not reading the caller ID before he slides to answer and tucks it between his ear and the pillow.

“‘lo?” he croaks.

“Wow,” Brandon says. “You sound terrible.” Adam sniffles, makes a sad whining sound. Talking is too hard. “I was going to ask if you wanted to do lunch,” Brandon says thoughtfully, “but I’ll come over instead.”

“What,” Adam says, but Brandon’s already hung up. “Ugh.” Adam doesn’t bother moving. Brandon’s seen him in worse situations, probably. Maybe.

Brandon has his spare key, and about half an hour later, Adam hears his door open and close, then footsteps coming down the hall.

His bedroom door opens slowly, and Adam extricates a hand out of his blanket cocoon and waves feebly at Brandon.

“Oh, Adam,” Brandon says, mostly to himself. He comes closer and sits on the edge of his bed. Adam looks up at him, his blankets up to his chin. “Have you been up yet?” Brandon asks. Adam shakes his head. He coughs again. “Okay, get up,” Brandon says. “Go have a shower, I’ll change your sheets.”

“Um.” Adam blinks. Brandon stands up, tugs at his comforter until Adam swats at his hands and gets up himself. He tries not to notice that he’s only wearing boxers and Brandon is fully dressed, and stumbles off to the shower.

The steam makes him feel a little better, and he spends a while just breathing it in.

By the time he gets out, dries off and brushes his teeth, Brandon’s in the kitchen. Adam just pulls on a T-shirt and sweats, and falls into fresh, cool sheets. He dozes for a while, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

“Wake up,” Brandon says, later. He’s sitting beside Adam again, holding a tray across his lap. Adam rubs his eyes and frowns. “Sit up,” Brandon says. “I made you lunch.”

“Mmmngh,” Adam agrees. His voice is so congested that he decides it’s for the best if he doesn’t try to talk again. Sitting up is a bit of a struggle, all of his limbs still feeling wooden from sleep, but he manages to lean against the headboard, pillows propped up behind him. He’s even mostly upright, so. Win.

Brandon carefully passes him the tray, making sure it’s settled in his lap safely before standing up. Adam looks up from where he was studying what looks like chicken noodle soup to make a sad noise. He doesn’t _want_ Brandon to go away.

“I’m just getting your laptop, go ahead and eat,” Brandon says, then goes to get it from where Adam left it on his couch last night. Adam brings a spoonful of soup to his mouth and blows on it until it’s not too hot to eat. It’s good, not too salty and not too much broth.

Brandon’s not even gone long, but by the time he gets back to Adam’s room, almost half the soup is gone. He’s carrying a steaming mug as well as the laptop, sets the mug down on the bedside table and goes around to sit on the other side of the bed.

“Good,” Adam says, tapping the side of the bowl. Brandon smiles while he turns on the laptop.

“I didn’t actually make it,” he admits. “I bought it on the way here and reheated it.” Adam shrugs and eats another spoonful. The implication that Brandon _would_ have made him cold-soup is good enough for him. “I made you some lemon tea with honey, too.” Brandon motions to the mug. “It was all I had at home.” Adam feels warm, and he’s pretty sure it’s not because of a fever.

“Thanks,” he rasps, and takes another bite of soup to hide his face. Brandon waits until he’s done his soup and is halfway through his tea before setting up Netflix.

They settle on an easy movie that both of them have seen before, and Brandon gets up to take the dishes to the kitchen when Adam empties the mug. He comes back with a bottle of red Gatorade, which he hands to Adam.

“Thought I was out,” Adam says, cracking the seal and taking a sip.

“You are,” Brandon says. “I brought some with me from home.”

“But you don’t like the red.”

“No, but you do.”

Adam doesn’t have much time to think about that before Brandon’s getting back up again, this time to rifle through his closet. The room is too dim to really see what he’s doing, but when he settles back in beside Adam, he’s wearing one of Adam’s hoodies.

“I was cold,” he says defensively. Adam shrugs, the movement making him slide down his pillows. Pretending as if it’s just to see the screen better, he shifts closer to Brandon until he’s almost pressed against his side from under the blankets. Absently, Brandon lifts an arm and lets him lie against his side, cheek practically pressed against Brandon’s hip.

When he wakes up, the room is still dark, the only light the screensaver on his laptop. Brandon is still on top of the covers, although he’s slid down the bed in sleep. Adam has one hand fisted in Brandon’s hoodie--his hoodie, he remembers, feels stupidly flustered thinking about that. He still feels awful, feverish and congested, but he’s got chills and Brandon is so warm, well.

It’s not hard to curl closer to Brandon’s side and fall back to sleep.

 

4.

 

“What do you _mean_ we don’t have enough rooms,” Adam says, certain he misheard.

“That’s what they told me.” Mark shrugs. “I figured you’d be okay to share with Rusty though, since--”

“Since _what?”_ Adam squawks, throwing his hands out beseechingly. Mark looks surprised.

“Are you guys not, like, together?”

Adam suddenly has more important issues than the fact that he’s apparently going to have to sleep with Brandon tonight, since _apparently_ his teammate and _friend_ thinks he’s _dating Brandon._

“No?!” Adam drags his hands through his hair, tightening his grip like he’d pull it out if he could. “What the fuck?” Mark doesn’t even look embarrassed, just surprised.

“Huh,” he says. “We thought you were just, like. Waiting to tell us or something.” Adam continues to stare at him in silence, worried he might scream if he opens his mouth. Mark looks curious now. “What’s taking you so long?”

Adam gives up and storms off to find Brandon.

“Apparently,” he says, when he finds Brandon leaning against one of the pillars in the hotel lobby, “we’re sharing tonight.” Brandon doesn’t look terribly surprised, just sighs and waits to get their key.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Brandon offers when they get to the room. The corners of his mouth are tilted down unhappily, and he’s not really looking at Adam.

“What?” Adam didn’t think he was _that_ unpleasant to sleep with, and Brandon has had more experience on that front than most. “Why?”

“You’ve been acting like you’re walking to your execution ever since you found out you had to share,” Brandon says, rolling his eyes. “If you don’t want to share the bed, I can sleep on the floor or see if someone else will let me share with them.”

Adam feels a momentary flash of anger imagining Brandon sharing with someone else before he realizes that he’s being ridiculous.

Just because Mark thinks they’re together doesn’t mean they’re _actually_ together, and as such Adam has no right to be jealous. Especially being jealous about things that haven’t even happened.

“It’s okay,” Adam says. “I didn’t mean to--sorry.” He scratches his jaw awkwardly. Brandon shakes his head.

“As long as you brush your teeth,” he says. When he turns around to set his bag down, Adam takes a discreet sniff of his breath. It’s not even bad, Adam has _no_ idea what Brandon is talking about.

When he finally gets into bed, mouth minty-fresh after spending a couple minutes jostling elbows with Brandon in the too-small bathroom while they brushed their teeth, he feels weirdly stressed out. It’s not the first time they’ve slept together, but it’s the first time they’ve done it--not on _purpose_ , since Adam is pretty sure sleeping with Brandon is really not helpful to his whole… situation, but deliberately, at least, maybe.

This time, he notices the way the bed dips when Brandon slides in next to him, and he can hear him breathing softly, only a few inches away. Adam stays lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling through the dark, and tries to keep his breathing as shallow as possible.

It’s all quiet for a moment.

“Adam,” Brandon says, and Adam can hear what sounds like him rolling over to face him. “What are you doing.”

“I’m not _doing_ anything!” Adam protests, doing his best imitation of a wooden plank. “I’m trying to sleep!” Brandon sighs, exasperated.

“You don’t sleep like this,” Brandon says. Adam bites back the obvious question about why Brandon would know how he sleeps, because even though they’ve slept together several time, he didn’t think Brandon was _noticing._ “Just relax,” Brandon says. He reaches out and brushes a hand carefully over Adam’s shoulder. Adam twitches, but he takes a deep breath, letting himself relax on the exhale. “That wasn’t so hard, was it.” Brandon already sounds almost half asleep, and Adam makes a strangled sort of noise. Brandon punches him in the side, gently. “Shush,” he says.

Adam stays still, listening to Brandon rustle around until he’s comfortable. He waits until he’s sure that Brandon is asleep before curling up and closing his eyes.

Waking up in the morning with Brandon’s nose pressed into his jaw, his arm thrown over Adam’s waist and Adam’s leg hooked around one of Brandon’s isn’t even a surprise.

 

5.

 

Adam hates his team.

Ever since Mark found out that him and Brandon aren’t _actually_ dating, everyone _else_ knows and are trying their best to get it to actually happen.

Like, for instance. Right now.

Blake had invited the guys over for some team bonding before the playoffs start, and most of them are hanging out in the living room, sprawled over various couches and chairs. Brandon _had_ been sitting next to him on the couch, but he got up to go get a beer from the kitchen. Jack, just coming back from the kitchen, notices the empty space beside Adam and, with a devious expression, flops onto the cushions.

“You’re not subtle,” Adam says. Jack just smiles at him. That’s his only chance to scold him, unfortunately, because Brandon comes back into the room. His face falls when he sees that all the seats are taken, looking especially grumpy when he sees Jack.

“Sorry for stealing your seat, Rusty,” Jack says, loudly enough that everyone in the room notices. Adam kind of wants to die over the way all conversation seems to go silent immediately, every eye on him or Brandon.

“I mean,” Mark says, and Adam puts off any wish for his own demise to wish death on him, “he could sit on Adam’s lap.” While Brandon stares at Adam with a shocked sort of expression, Adam looks to Mark for some kind of explanation. Mark just raises his eyebrows in a _go on_ gesture.

Adam hates him.

Trying to appear nonchalant, he shrugs, stretching his legs out a bit. Brandon rolls his eyes, says something under his breath that Adam can’t make out, then marches over and sits down on Adam’s thighs.

He glares at the guys as if daring them to say something about it.

At least, Adam assumes that’s what he’s doing. The back of his head looks pretty glare-y.

As the evening draws on, Adam gets used to the feeling of Brandon in his lap and the guys are mostly ignoring their seating situation.

Brandon finishes his beer eventually, leaning over to set the empty bottle down on a side table but not getting up to do it.

He settles back against Adam, draping one arm over the back of the couch behind him.

Adam zones out a little, letting the sound of his friends’ voices wash over him, the feeling of Brandon on his lap, his arm now resting on Adam’s shoulders. He’s mostly leaning against Adam’s chest, Adam’s arms loosely wrapped around his waist.

It’s kind of funny, Adam thinks, how they end up like this even when they don’t mean to. Tangled together.

Brandon’s started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching his fingernails through it. Adam’s pretty sure he’s not even aware that he’s doing it. He tugs at a piece of hair, just gently, but Adam shivers a little bit. Jack and Brandon both look at him strangely.

“Um,” Adam says. He swallows. “I’m going to head out now.”

He practically dumps Brandon onto the floor in his hurry to stand up, but he doesn’t turn around, leaving as quickly as he can.

Adam feels cold, without him.

 

+1.

 

They lose.

They _lost._

Adam hardly says a word to anyone on the flight home from St. Louis, but it’s not like anyone else is in a talkative mood either. Brandon sits next to him on the plane, but he stays leaning away from him, a pensive frown on his face.

Adam says his goodbyes to the team in the airport, a few quiet hugs and handshakes.

Brandon’s already gone when he turns to look for him. Any words Adam wanted to say to him die in his throat. His eyes sting, a little, at the fact that Brandon didn’t even want to say goodbye to him.

He stands there, feeling lost and uncertain, then Mark comes up to him. He pulls Adam into a hug, waits until Adam relaxes with a sigh and hugs him back. Mark rubs his back before stepping back. He smiles at Adam, and Adam knows he doesn’t mean it, really, but he’s _trying._

“You know,” Mark says, his voice careful, “sometimes it’s important to take a chance on something that you want.” He gives Adam a significant look before turning away and leaving him alone in the terminal.

“Oh,” Adam says belatedly. “I get it.”

He doesn’t go straight to Brandon’s place. He goes home first, to shower off the stale plane air and change out of his suit.

It’s _late_ when he gets to Brandon’s--or early, technically, but Adam is reasonably certain that he won’t be asleep.

His suspicion is proven right when Brandon answers the door to let him inside after the first knock. He looks tired, drawn. Sad.

Even his hair looks sad, shower-damp and flopped over his forehead. Adam feels the temptation to push it back and for the first time, ignores the impulse to push that feeling back. He reaches out and brushes Brandon’s hair back.

Adam stares, fascinated, at the way a flush rises in Brandon’s cheeks. Brandon looks away from his face, stares resolutely at the floor.

Brandon’s wearing the hoodie that he borrowed when Adam was sick.

Adam takes one of the drawstrings in between his thumb and forefinger, tugs on it gently. He worries his lip between his teeth for a second.

“You kept it?” he asks. His voice is quiet. Brandon doesn’t answer at first, since that wasn’t _really_ the question.

“It’s yours.” Brandon tilts his chin up like he’s daring Adam to say something, but Adam’s pretty sure he couldn’t form words right now anyway. Brandon’s hands come up to take Adam’s where he’s still loosely holding the drawstring. He rubs his thumbs over Adam’s knuckles, the scars there.

“You know why I’m here, don’t you,” Adam says. Brandon keeps stroking his hand, but he looks at him with wide eyes. Not surprised eyes, though. Something else.

Wonder, maybe.

“It’s about time, I guess,” Brandon says with a sad sort of smile. _Take a chance,_ Mark said.

Adam kisses him.

It’s a slow, gentle kiss, Brandon kissing back right away. Neither of them have the energy to speed it up, so they stay there trading slow kisses for long enough that any adrenaline Adam had when he arrived has faded.

He pulls back to rest their foreheads touching, both of them just breathing.

“Come to bed with me,” Brandon says. “Just to sleep.” Adam smiles and runs a thumb over Brandon’s cheekbone. He nods, pressing one more kiss to the corner of Brandon’s mouth.

They undress for bed together, crawl under the sheets in their T-shirts and boxers together, and Brandon pulls Adam close to his chest, effectively spooning him.

He wraps his arm firmly around Adam’s waist, holding him close. It feels easy to relax in his arms, feeling warm not just because their bodies are pressed together, but because he knows that Brandon wants him back.

Adam tangles his fingers with Brandon’s where his hand is resting on his stomach, mindful of his broken finger.

This time, he’s not worried about how he’ll wake up in the morning. He knows everything will be okay, because he’ll have Brandon with him.

  


**Author's Note:**

> who else kind of.... sad.
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)


End file.
